


Into The Reach

by Sidako



Category: EVE Online, Elite: Dangerous
Genre: Action, F/M, Family Dynamics, Far Future, Future Fic, Hurt/Comfort, Mystery, Outer Space, Science Fiction, Sibling Bonding, Sibling Rivalry, Space Battles, Space Flight, Space Military, Space Pirates, Space Stations, Space trucking, Team Dynamics, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-22
Updated: 2019-03-22
Packaged: 2019-11-28 00:51:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18201266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sidako/pseuds/Sidako
Summary: Space pirates are attacking various trading groups and stations around the human owned space in our galaxy. Reice Ignistar, after caught up in a raid, gets dragged into the conflict. He, together with his sister must figure out a way to stop these criminals from terrorizing The Bubble, but there may be more than just pirates responsible for the destruction...





	1. Prologue

**Prologue**

 

A young man awakens to the sounds of metal creaking and glass tinkling softly in what sounds to be a cramped area. The first thing he’s aware of is a small red light blinking slowly on a mangled panel of buttons and switches, then followed by a searing pain in his arm and the warmth of his blood as it drips down his brow. He painfully wipes the grime from his eyes so that he can see his surroundings and try to figure out what happened.

 

Again, the first thing he notices is the panel of important looking knobs and that incessant light slowly flashing away. He looks up to see a spider web of cracks and fractures in the glass canopy that used to protect him from the cold vacuum outside, now threatening to give away at a moment’s notice. He wonders in amazement how the glass is even still intact let alone holding enough air for him to breath in what remains of his tiny cockpit. He looks to the right, but a wave of pain flashes through his arm like lightning as he realizes his left shoulder is pinned in like a vice to the chair he sits in by a mangle of steel and wire . 

 

“Great,” he attempts to say but the word comes out so broken and grizzly that he wondered for a moment if it was even his own voice. “Pinned in this tin can, floating through space, with this God damned flashing light giving me lip! It’s mocking me, I know it! Saying, ‘It’s ok, rescue will come shortly! Everything is alright!’ My ass it is! One little bit of debris and this whole enclosure blows me right out into the Grim Reaper’s arms! It wouldn’t be so bad though, if this LIGHT WOULD STO---” 

 

He staves the onset of insanity for just long enough to realize that the light he was just shouting at was indeed a rescue beacon. It really is telling him that rescue is on the way. He stretches out to flip the broken switch for the communications relay, but something stops him. That mangle of metal and malice has him trapped in his seat, just out of reach of the console. He takes a deep breath in and with as much power as he can muster, he lunges forward. His ears buzz and ring as the most intense pain he has ever felt rushes to greet him. He reaches the switch and flips it as he looks back at a piece of him that he left behind. “I suppose I didn’t need that arm anyway…”

 

With the flip of the switch the broken speakers come alive with the sound of electricity and a voice in the distance. “Click...Zzzzzzttt. C--e in, co-e in, th-s i- Com-and! Can anyone read me!? 

 

“Loud...and clear…” his words crack out before succumbing to his wounds. A dark shadow passes over his pale face and somewhere far away he hears the sounds of machinery, people shouting, and monitors beeping into what seems to be eternity.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading and please let me (Corona the author) know if there's anyway I can improve. All feedback is appreciated!


	2. De-briefing

 

“Alright, you may begin…”

 

The young man pauses a moment to gather his thoughts before he starts. He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and exhales slowly.

 

“Ok. My name is Reice Ignistar. I am a pilot working under my father as fleet logistics support captain for our company, Ignistar Industries. My father obtained a high priority shipping contract from…” Reice checks his speech. “...a reputable and well known client. We were to ship medical supplies and humanitarian aid to the people of PF-346. I was in charge of a small platoon of frigates and support cruisers, about 10 in total.”

 

“We set out from Ansila and had plans to arrive in PF-346 within two weeks. Something seemed off though. The goods we received had been handled by another individual before making it to the guy who gave it to us, we call it double wrapping. It’s a way to hide the original owner of the cargo in question. The contract’s wording was very odd too, very little legal information was attached and the way things were written was unprofessional at best.”

“There were so many red flags that went off with this contract that I was sure my father would turn it down. It was obviously not a legitimate contract, but we had hit a dry spell and many of our pilots had to resort to investments and stocks to make ends meet for themselves and the company so my father took the job. 3 days after picking up our load in Ansila, our route was changed due to ‘pirate activity’ in a safer region of space we were going to pass through. That’s when I knew what was going on.”

 

He pauses to take in the faces of his audience and his environment. Two people dressed in stark white medical robes to his left are checking the equipment he is currently attached to. He watches them as they replace an empty bag from his IV stand with a new bag filled with some clear fluid. The shorter of the two has longish blonde hair pulled back into a large bun and is jotting down notes in her PDA at an astonishing speed while the taller bald one starts to unravel the bandages from Reice’s head.

 

At the foot of the bed there is a rather imposing looking figure with a massive build, broad shoulders and a serious air about him. His face sports a mass of well maintained hair that makes him look like a rather well groomed bear. He’s dressed in full military regalia and has so much brass on his coat that it makes Reice wonder just how heavy the dark olive green coat the man wore really is. Beside him stands another smaller, slimmer figure also dressed in military wear though not quite as extravagant and bedazzled as the behemoth beside her. She is also tapping wildly at a rather large PDA screen, so much so as to make Reice think she’s trying to break it. “I wonder if they are having a race to see who finished their notes first…” He wonders to himself in amusement.

 

“Ahem! As you were saying, Reice.” The large man-bear bellows. His voice fills the room so quickly and suddenly that one of the nurses almost drops a bag of medicine on the floor.

 

“Err...right. As I was saying, General, I knew what was happening when they changed our route because I’d heard about things like that before. Shady cargo, sudden route changes, Pirates, and body bags tend to go hand in hand. Pirates set up what they call “Gank Contracts” on companies to trap and destroy shipments or blockade supply lines to strategically vital locations in times of war. Sometimes, they do it for their own profit. Salvage is worth a lot since the war started and if they can recover any of the shipment it makes their effort all the more valuable. Sometimes, the pirates turn mercenary and sell their services to the highest bidder, usually larger corporations trying to undermine their competition. And sometimes, they just do it for the thrill, bragging rights.”

 

Reice looks down at his hand for a moment as if in deep thought, like a memory passed through his mind that he’d rather not bring back up. “All I know is that about 5 days before our arrival window we were jumping through deep space when our sensors started screaming. Our ships were slammed right out of warp speed and all I saw were bright lights, rockets and gouts of flame tearing holes through our ships. Both mechanical and human parts flying through space…” He shudders. “...warning lights...my platoon screaming over comms, then one by one going silent then, nothing. A big, bright flash, a distant boom, then nothing. That is, until you picked me up.”

 

The room fell silent save for the tapping of the General’s assistant. After a few moments the tapping ceases and she looks up to lock eyes with Reice. She looks at him for a moment, but that moment feels like an eternity. Her eyes have a piercing quality about them as though she isn’t just seeing your soul, but reading your mind and seeing your past. She nods her head as though satisfied with what she’s seen and asks, “Can you describe what the pirate ships looked like? What color were they? What size? Did they have any markings? What weapons were they using?”

 

“I believe the ships were painted in a traditional red and black camo pattern. As for ship sizes and weapons, it seemed like they had it all. Lasers, rockets, guns, you name it. I can’t remember any symbols or other small details though.”

 

“Oh, but the symbols aren’t just any small detail. They could give us clues as to who attacked you. If we know who, we might just figure out why! You must remember, you were there!”

 

“Look lady,” Reice starts with an scathing attitude, “I saw my friends blown up in front of me, I saw my life flash before my eyes, and I saw the bodies of my allies thrown from their ships, blasted to pieces. Your lucky I remember anything at all. Hell, I’m lucky to even be here.”

 

“Indeed you are.” The General states grimly.

 

Reice looks at the General for a moment before his eyes widen at a thought that crosses his mind. He slowly rises up, pushing himself with his one arm. “General...tell me something.” He looks the general dead in the eye. “How many of us made it out of there? Who else is alive?”

 

A very small crack begins to show in the wall that is the General. He shifts uncomfortably like a doctor about to deliver the worst news.

 

“You.”


	3. Recovery

Recovering from traumatic injuries and mental trauma is a arduous and painful process that could take months to even decades to complete with no real guarantee that the wounds will heal completely. There are always lasting scars, psychological breakdowns, PTSD, and so many other side effects that one must contend with. One has to learn to cope with the loss of their limb and relearn everything from the ground up. Even something so simple and natural as walking can defeat many people in the recovery phase...at least, that’s how it used to be.

 

Medicinal practices have come a long way from when humans first left the Sol system to explore the stars beyond. Nanomachines help accelerate the body’s natural repairing functions. Gels and pastes help ease swelling and bleeding from even the most heinous lacerations within minutes of application. Medical advances have allowed the communication between the nanomachines, monitoring equipment, and surgeons to non-invasively perform surgery on any given limb or organ without even touching the patient. It’s truly marvelous how quickly a person can bounce back from near death these days.

 

“Now tell me, do you feel any pain around your shoulder? Anything from numbness to throbbing? Any dizziness or loss of vision?”

 

“The only thing I feel is *phew* a little lighter on one side, doc. And hungry.” Reice’s stomach growls as though agreeing with his statement. “You really should get *phew* a better cook here unless your plan is *phew* to help patients lose weight while they recover.”

 

The doctor chuckles as he watches Reice run on a treadmill and jots some words into his medical journal. “Yes, yes. I’ve heard that from both patients and staff alike. To be honest most of us started bringing our own lunches after the new chef was brought in.”

 

“Aww, that hardly seems fair.” Reice says with a pout.

 

The doctor laughs at the patient’s liveliness. He spins around in his rolling chair and flips a switch on the exercising equipment. The tread begins to slow to a walking speed before finally coming to a halt. The doctor takes a few ECG electrodes off Reice’s chest and after scribbling one last signature he stands up to meet him with a smile.

 

“Well, good news is that you won't have suffer breakfast again. All your vitals are reading normal, your shoulder has recovered nicely, and we aren’t seeing any complications. You, my friend, are clear to leave tomorrow morning!” The doctor reaches out and shakes Reice’s hand.

 

“Thanks doc, one more omelette from Chef Sucks-a-Lot and I might have really been in a medical emergency.” he says, sticking his tongue out and contorting his face. Reice walks over to the therapy room exit. “Point me in the direction of the closest vending machine! I’m getting some real food for a change!”

 

“Ahh, before you go the General wanted to talk with you. Meet him in his office as soon as you are able. He said it was in your best interest.” The doctor says as Reice walks out into the hallway. He slows his pace for a moment to turn and look back at his therapist curiously, expecting some sort of answer. The white robed man shrugs his shoulders and retreats back into the exercising room.

 

He stands there in the middle of the hallway for a moment, wondering what the General of the Interstellar Navy could possibly want from him. “Maybe…” He begins, but his stomach interjects. “Alright, alright. I get it. Food first, meet with Teddy after. Now where can I find a vending machine.”

 


	4. Recovery Pt. 2

The General sits at his desk behind a pile of papers with his secretary at his side. He reads each document while rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Pirates running wild in Empire space, civilian and military shipments getting blown out of the sky, police forces are busy with local incursions, and we still can’t find that one dealer that keeps selling black market ammunition behind our back. With all this activity going on, our forces are getting spread thin. We need to figure out what’s going on and how to stop it.” He flips open a binder and reads it before tossing it aside and slumping into his desk.

 

“The young man we rescued is the first survivor of these recent attacks. He might hold the key to figuring out who is behind all of this. We should interrogate him. He may be hiding details about the attack. He may even be a plant! I mean, he is the first one to survive any of these attacks. Maybe he was put there to derail our investigations. He could even be a…”

 

The General crashed his fist on the desk in anger and papers went flying everywhere. Even his weighted nameplate went flying across the room at his outburst. He shot a glance towards his secretary who was now holding her PDA close to her chest, eyes wide open like a deer caught in front of a speeding truck.

 

“The boy is no plant. He’s lost his arm, it was torn to shreds when we picked him up. Even our best medical experts couldn’t piece the damn thing back together. We pulled his records and he has no clone, why would a cloneless pilot put himself through so much risk just to throw us off for a few days? It doesn’t make sense. Leave that poor boy alone, he’s been through enough.” He turns his head back to his leg and rubs his knee thoughtfully.

 

“Y-yes, General. But you must agree that it’s strange that he survived where others have not.” The secretary looks at the general expecting another lashing, but instead he looks at another document on the desk. “If nothing else we should quarantine him or place him under house arrest until we can be sure.”

 

“What if we enlist him? The General says quietly while handing his secretary a small stack of enlistment papers. Her jaw drops at his suggestion. She stands there briefly, dumbfounded.

 

“Enlist him?! We could be enlisting the leader of the pirate gang for all we know! We don't know this kid! Are you crazy!?”

 

“Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer, right Langli?” He says with a grin. “I still don’t think he is our enemy, but keeping him around isn’t a bad idea. If he is here to deceive us, then it’ll be nothing to catch a man already in our hand. If he isn’t, he’s the only pilot to go through the pirate’s onslaught and live to tell about it. Which means he’s either a better pilot than most, or he’s extremely lucky. And we need both good pilots and a lot of luck.”

 

Langli composes herself and clears her throat. “I see. Yes, that could work. I request I oversee his activities and confirm that he is indeed who he says he is. There is one other problem though, General Katelo. We don’t accept pilots with one functioning limb. It takes too much skill and precision for even a normal pilot to fly effectively. I doubt he would do well at all, handicapped as he is. It may be best that he be placed in office, maybe assist me with solving this case. I can keep a better eye on him there as well.”

 

General Katelo chuckles at Langli’s suggestion. “No, he’ll be a pilot alright. I’ll make sure of that.” He stands up from his desk and turns to his assistant in routine military forme. Langli immediately brings herself to attention and salutes her General. “Langli! Fetch his medical records and a sample of his DNA. Send them to our main cloning facility and tell them to prepare for a new Pilot. Once complete, you will then send for him to meet me here in my office. I have a proposition to make.”

 

“Sir, yes sir!” Langli shouts as she salutes off to her General and quickly leaves the room to complete the task she was given.

 

He watches her leave the office and smiles to himself. “We’ve been stumbling around looking for clues for a long time, and here one falls right onto our doorstep. He’s seen how they fight, and he’s smart enough to make it out alive. With him, we might just win this war.” He pushes a button underneath his desk and a hologram of the galaxy appears. Stars and constellations are highlighted different colors and show where the most recent conflicts have been. A large red sphere encases several constellations nearby showing the hardest hit area. He grabs the image with his fingertips and drags it to his PDA, downloading the star map into the handheld device.

 

“I believe I have a doctor’s appointment.” he says as he takes a business card off his desk that reads “Cybernetic and Prosthetic Enhancements” and places it into his coat pocket.

 


	5. An Ultimatum

Langli sits at her desk working through a stack of confidential documents, making notes and filing them away when she hears a knock at the door. She quickly takes the unfinished pile and stows it away in a locked drawer beneath her desk before answering. “You may enter.” She says plainly, adjusting her nameplate to be more even with the edge of her desk.

 

Reice steps in, chewing on a piece of dehydrated beef and taking in the look of the General’s office. The room is as one would expect from an executive office, with books lining the shelves behind the main desk and a dark colored U-Shaped couch filling up the middle of the room. The Military Aide’s desk is set closer to the door, with a stack of papers neatly placed near the corner and the computer on the other corner showing a desktop screen with the symbol of the Interstellar navy clearly visible. A larger desk sits in the back of the room.

 

“Ahh yes, Reice. Good to see you are in better health. Please close the door behind you and have a seat.” Langli motions to a brown leather chair near her desk. “I take it your recovery was successful?” She takes a small stack of papers bound with a paperclip from near her computer and sets it face down in between her and Reice.

 

“Yeah. Military has great medical equipment. If only your cook was half as good, I would have been out of here last week.” He says jokingly, taking another bite from the jerky he brought in with him. Langli looks disapprovingly at him and points to the trash can beside her desk.

 

“Yes, well I’ll see to it we make arrangements for a better menu. Now please throw that away. No food is allowed in the General’s office.” Reice looks at his jerky sadly before taking one more large bite and stuffing the rest in his pocket. Langli sighs and quickly begins making notes on her PDA. “I’m sure you are wondering why we called you to see us.” She pushes the small stack of papers over to Reice before leaning back into her chair. “We would like you to sign these non-disclosure documents stating you will not release any information about the things you may have seen or heard during your stay here. Including medical techniques, military personnel, doctors, equipment, and so on. The full list is described in detail on pages four and five of the document. I need you to read the paper thoroughly and sign once you have completed. Please ask if you have any questions.”

 

Reice sighs heavily before taking the paper and glances over the first page. As he leafs over the next page Langli clears her throat and looks at Reice expectantly. He rolls his eyes and goes back to read everything in detail before making his signature on the last sheet. “Better?” He asks flatly.

 

“Much.” Langli grins to herself as she takes the stack and places it in a file. “Now, if you would kindly take a seat on the couch behind me, the General will be with you shortly.” Reice nods and steps over to the couch, throwing himself into one of the corners and propping his feet on the coffee table. Again, Langli clears her throat behind him but he pays no attention to her this time and sinks in a little further, taking the jerky back out of his pocket and quietly pulls another bite from it. 

 

After a few moments, the door to the office opens as General Katelo’s Heavy boots thump softly across the carpeted floor. He makes his way to his desk, placing a long object covered in cloth on it and sitting in his chair. He takes an ashtray from his desk and slowly lights a cigarette, taking in a long breath before breathing out heavily and finally looking at the young man sitting across from him. Reice, feeling a little more on edge now, straightens himself on the couch and places his feet back on the floor.

 

“Langli.”

 

“Yes, sir.” She says as she brings another form to Katelo and stands behind him, her PDA at the ready and her eyes fixed on Reice. He takes one more deep pull from his cigarette before setting it in the ashtray, a thin line of smoke trailing off it into a vent in the ceiling. He releases one more smokey breath before looking at the documents Reice had signed earlier.

 

“Reice. Good to see you back at full health. How are you getting along without your arm?” Reice is wearing a t-shirt, with a sleeve clearly missing a resident. Katelo glances at the empty sleeve before looking back to Reice.

 

“Uhh…” Reice hesitates. “Well enough, I guess. This sort of thing happens in my line of work. I half expected it going in, just didn’t think I’d get hit so early. I’m guessing Dad will put me on admin duty now that I’ve lost some weight.” Reice chuckles dryly at his own joke, but he feels like that wasn’t the answer the General was looking for.

 

“I came to make you an offer, Ignistar. After reviewing your history as a Logistics Support Captain for your father’s company and taking into consideration recent events, I have come to the conclusion that we could use your expertise. You have information regarding trade routes that are commonly used by people in your field, experience in leadership roles, a history of commanding fleets of security vessels for shipments, and you seem to have an understanding of how pirates operate.” He hardens his look on the last statement. “I would like to invite you to become a pilot for the Interstellar Navy, and accelerate you to the rank of Ensign. After your training period, you will be assigned a fleet of 12 ships and will be expected to perform routine training regimens and instruct them on pirate activities as your experience has taught you.”

 

Reice stares blankly, not really believing what he is hearing. “General...I appreciate the offer but I can’t just abandon my family and the business. Besides, don’t you have specialists for that sort of thing? Ones with two arms?”

 

“Which brings me to this.” General Katelo unwraps the object on the desk and holds it up. “If you join us, you will be granted a replacement. This prosthetic is made out of the highest military grade carbon fiber. Near bulletproof, and runs completely off of the user’s own metabolic energy. Lightweight, and it connect directly to your nervous system so input is as simple as using your natural arm. Good luck finding one like this in the public sector anytime soon.”

 

“I can’t just leave because you give me an arm. My family means more to me than the arm did...even if it was my good one. And what if another shipment is attacked? I’m sure my father took a huge loss for that job. I need to be there to protect the next shipment.”

 

“We can allow the use of private military shipping lanes. They will be protected by military escorts and are harder to locate than your run-of-the-mill trade routes most businesses take.” Katelo grins. He knows how people like Reice are and has thought of everything ahead of time. “We can even give your father’s company military shipment contracts, since you said your business hit a dry spell it would guarantee job security for your family and all the people who work for them. It’s a win-win situation Reice. Help us, and your family business will be safe and you get a new arm. Or go home, but aren’t pirates the type to strike those who they think are weak and easy targets? They already hit Ignistar Industries once. What’s stopping them from doing it again?”

 

Reice looks at the coffee table and places his hand over his eyes. “He’s right…” He thinks to himself. “Family has military protection, guaranteed work, fast travel and safe military lanes, and a new arm that Dad wouldn’t have to pay for.” As he’s weighing the options, a contract form slides into view on the coffee table. 

 

“You won’t get a better offer than this one, Reice.” Langli states. Reice looks up at her, then to the General who is now leaning his elbows on his desk, fingers laced together. He looks back to the paper, a single sheet with a few lines of text listing the terms and a line at the bottom. He reads through it, weighing every letter on the paper in his mind.

 

“...Alright.” Reice finally concludes. “Gimme a pen.”

 

“Good. Training starts next week.” Katelo says proudly.

 

“Yeah...great.” Reice sighs as he finishes his signature. “Just answer me one thing.”

 

“What’s that?” The General looks at Reice curiously and Langli rolls her eyes, believing she already knows where this is going.

 

Reice grins mischievously. “Is the food any good?” 

 


End file.
